


I Ship It: OTP's and Moresomes

by LadyKF



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Banorashipping, Blakk and White, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OTP Feels, Prince & Poet, Swearing, Valenwind, rated up a bit for Cid's mouth, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKF/pseuds/LadyKF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Multifandom drabbles covering a lot of pairings/moresomes that I ship in a romantic way. Nothing explicit will be written out, though there might be cursing. (FF7 fans will know where that's headed.) Warnings given at the beginning, and mention of what pairing per chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. F!Sith Inquisitor/M!Cipher Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sith preached the values of passion, the strength in emotion, but Saare barely knew how to explain what she felt for him to herself. For better or worse, Blakk was used to it by now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible spoilers for the end of Chapter Two of the Sith Inquisitor's story line, if you pay close attention.

There was easily a half a dozen things they could be doing - _should_ be doing - right then. Blakk had people to hunt, Saare had research to do (and wasn’t that the story of their lives?) but right now, they weren’t. There was data to review and people to contact and places to go and _none of it_ was getting done until morning.

Saare knew, of course, that she wasn’t going to be able to stay this way long. The ghosts were silent for now, but they wouldn’t be forever. She hadn’t forgotten what they’d said, but the fact was that right then she didn’t have the _strength_ to be a danger to Blakk. So she let him support her out, and when he laid her down, she reached to catch his arm, wordlessly asking him to stay. There was a moment where Blakk stared, blue eyes wide as they always were when she reached for him; it wasn’t a regular occurrence, not even as often as the impulse came, but he’d learned that she wasn’t likely to make it twice if he left.

Maybe that was why he sat back down, just on the edge of the bed as he took his belts off and put his blasters aside. They were in range, of course, he was always on guard, but it let him lay down more comfortably. Those bright blue eyes watched her, waiting, and she couldn’t blame him for his hesitance. She wasn’t good with affection, wasn’t good with saying the things he deserved - _needed_ \- to hear from her. Hopefully the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’ would prove true and be enough this time.

She didn’t bother to try and stand to get more of her things off - her lightsaber was on the hip that didn’t press into the mattress, it wasn’t a problem worth wasting precious energy for - so she moved that final bit closer to curl against his chest. He’d ditched his Imperial uniform on Quesh, wearing a thick red tunic that was just as soft against her face as it had looked, the faint smell of ozone clinging there either from his blades or the lightning storm she’d unleashed. But he was warm and strong underneath the softness, a strange dynamic with how gently he wrapped his arms around her. It wasn’t a position they’d been in often. The first time was probably on Alderaan, which she refused to think on in detail, but as startled and confused as he was, Blakk had offered her the comfort she needed then. Just the same way he offered it now.

There were things she should say. She knew there were, knew he had to be confused, a little at least. Or maybe he thought it was just the shock of it all and that he was the one available option short of Khem or Vector. But Saare had held herself together for a very, very long time, all alone. She wasn’t in his arms for lack of another choice.

 _He needs to hear that. He_ deserves _to hear that._

But she didn’t have the words to say it on a good day, let alone when she was so exhausted that moving hurt. It was more complicated than ‘I love you’ or ‘I need you’ even though somehow, somewhere along the way, both became true. He meant more to her than she had words for, wasn’t sure there _were_ words for what she felt. Maybe just none she’d ever heard; it wasn’t like the Sith fostered _this_ kind of emotion, nevermind it was just as passionate and fear-inspiring as anything else.

A breath in, a breath out, and she felt a hand move under her hair to rub a slow, careful circle on her back. Saare sighed quietly, melting against him at the gentle touch, letting herself focus on it. It was such a small thing, on the scale of all they’d been through, and at the same time, it was _everything._ That gentle touch, that careful comfort… she sighed quietly, closing her eyes and slipping an arm around his waist, finding comfort in knowing that even after all this, Blakk was still there. No matter all the problems they had, no matter how much they fought with each other - and she wasn’t so foolish to think they wouldn’t do so again, they were both too strong willed, too guarded - they kept coming back to each other.

For right now, that was enough.


	2. Vincent Valentine/Cid Highwind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their relationship was a subtle thing, built up over years of companionship and more patience than most people believed Cid Highwind possessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU situation, post-DoC, where Cid and Shera aren't a couple. Warnings for Cid-typical language.

_Subtlety_  was not something Cid Highwind had associated with him often. He was loud, blunt, crude, bossy, and had a legendary temper. It was well known, and didn’t bother him one bit. Honestly, not much did these days; after the shit they’d been through with Meteor, Sephiroth _twice,_ and then the whole thing with Omega, most things weren’t worth more than a grumble. Which he did, because he had a reputation to maintain.

There was the quiet sound of thick fabric fluttering in the evening breeze somewhere off to his right and Cid felt himself smile a little, because he supposed there was no sense maintaining a reputation with someone who would call him out on every little thing that spoke to the contrary. “You gonna just loom up there? Ain’t no one here but me.”

There was silence, but he didn’t mind. Silence with Vincent had become a comfortable thing somewhere along the line. Besides, he’d made a goddamn _art_ out of drawing the former Turk out.

The teapot ever present in his workshop was turned back on, the burner he’d put together heating the water fast enough to almost need it off again immediately. An airtight tin was taken from one of his drawers, measured out into the cup down beside it and he set it to steep.

Moments later, there was a muted thump of boots on the hard floor of the hangar, the steps not quite so telling since Vincent had finally given up those sabatons of his. There was a peculiar feeling of having his full attention, even without actually _seeing_ him, but Cid was used to that too. He hooked a foot around a stool tucked under the high table and tugged it out without a word. Even after all this time, it was a lot like trying to coax out a cat, often a lot of work, but always worth it.

At long last, Vincent settled on the stool, perching there easily and idly resting an arm on the counter. “Rooibos?”

“Yep.” He took a moment to finish the part of his sketch he’d been working on, giving a brief gesture to the cup. “Strawberry, vanilla, an’ bit of almond in there. It‘s nice.”

A quiet chuckle did make him look, and those red eyes were gentled with fond amusement. “Of course you’re not going to leave that be.”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Vince; I sure as hell didn’t make the ground ‘round here good for growin’ ‘em.” Of course, Vincent continued to _look_ at him, one brow arching slowly because the man had learned a thing or two about calling Cid out without a word somewhere along the way. “It’s a small thing t’ do, an’ it makes you happy. That’s all the reason I need.”

There was a time that such a candid admission would have closed the older man off. In fact, before the whole Omega and Deepground fiasco, Vincent had _still_ gotten skittish. But when he came back, even as exhausted as he was, there was something settled inside that Cid didn’t think was just Chaos’ absence. The demi-Weapon hadn’t minded him at all, which said a _lot,_ so that wasn’t what had Vincent watching him with a deeper weight now. Not why there was a sense that one of the many walls that he kept up against the world was lowered, at least for Cid.

Right now, the fondness was still there, soft and warm, even _affectionate_ when before it was mostly indulgent _._ “You’re kinder than you like to let people know.”

“Yeah, well, takes one t’ know one an’ all that,” Cid pointed out, shrugging with a little smile of his own. Vincent inclined his head in mute agreement and Cid counted it a win. “You gonna keep an old man company for dinner?”

That earned a snort of amusement. “Chronologically, I’m older than you.”

“ _Chronologically_ don’t mean a goddamn thing.” He pointed at him with his pencil, cutting off any further comment. “An’ that’s changin’ the subject. I got a roast in the crockpot an’ some fruit for dessert. Was thinkin’ of putting together a cobbler or somethin’ tomorrow; too much t’ just keep around long as it’d take me t’ eat ‘em myself and I don’t can or make jam.”

“I suppose you’ll need help then.” There was knowing amusement in Vincent’s voice, and it made Cid grin.

“Well, if you’re gonna _offer,_ sure.” Cid felt that same fondness he was seeing and wondered if it was just as obvious. He hoped it was, at least to Vincent. The quiet chime of his timer went off, and he gestured to the tea. “Should be ready.”

“Not going to tell me to drink my goddamn tea?” Vincent’s teasing was a subtle thing, and Cid got a kick out of it.

“Hey now, don’t you pick on me. ‘m _delicate_.”

“The ability to _be_ delicate does not _make_ one delicate,” Vincent said, though he was clearly amused. He took a moment to smooth the collar of his cape down, picking up the cup for a careful sip. The quiet sound of pleasure was a beautiful victory, as far as the captain was concerned. “Very nice.”

“I make a damn fine cuppa.” Cid set about finishing his draft while Vincent savored it, steady strokes of his pencil to get his ideas on paper. He saw movement, Vincent getting up, but didn’t comment.

A moment later, he’d moved close enough to touch, watching him. “… water filtration?”

“For the ruins an’ Edge.” He finished up the basics and turned it for Vincent to see properly. “Handle the mess from mako spills, purify it, maybe see if it can’t be processed into somethin’ useful or at least disposed properly. Real mess out there.”

“ _That_ I knew.” Vincent considered the layout, shaking his head. “Very impressive.”

“I do know machines.”

“More than machines.” Vincent leaned against the counter, cup still in hand but not drinking it again just yet. “Do you have a lot of work yet?”

“Nothin’ that can’t wait,” Cid promised. He let his hands rest on either side of the sketch, smiling a little when Vincent moved enough to let their fingers brush. It was always a touchy thing at first when he came in from his wanderings, but apparently Vincent had come back in a good mood. “Think you could manage some of my cookin’?”

“I’m certain I’ve eaten less edible things,” Vincent said, deadpan but for the twinkle in his eyes. When Cid made an indignant sound, he stepped away, slipping around him with a brief touch of fingertips across his shoulders. “Come on, chief.”

“You’re a _brat,_ Vince.”

Vincent’s laughter was soft, but came more often and more freely these days than it once had. Cid was damn pleased to be the cause of it every chance he got. Whatever it was that had let Vincent’s senses find him ‘safe’ enough to be around to start with, he’d worked hard to win the rest of the man’s companionship himself.

And if it was more than that sometimes, well, that was their business. Cid could do subtle.


	3. Rufus Shinra/Genesis Rhapsodos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no way they would be anything but trouble together, but Genesis liked to play with fire and Rufus always did love to make a stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indulgent AU where everything is fine and nothing hurts, because this is a favorite "guilty pleasure" ship of mine.

It probably should have been telling when Genesis was ever willing to take on escort duty. Most people seemed to chalk it up to his love of the arts, the fact that he was accompanying the Vice President to theaters and art shows making a decent excuse for his presence and Rufus’ continued request. Which was fine with both the SOLDIER and executive, and not entirely untrue.

Rufus glanced aside as the redhead took a seat beside him, looking rather stunning in a suit for once, and chuckled at the glass he was presented with. A light inhale told him it was indeed the sparkling cider Genesis tended to favor, and he shook his head. “You’re terrible. You know I’m not legal to drink?”

“Who, exactly, is going to _stop_ you?” The First favored him with a lazy smile, settling in so their shoulders brushed. “And _has_ that ever stopped you?”

“No, but that’s not the point. You’re supposed to be my responsible bodyguard.”

Genesis snorted softly. “ _Tseng_ is your responsible bodyguard. I’m the hired muscle who happens to also be pretty and enjoy this sort of thing.”

“Mm _hm._ You do sound quite convincing, I’ll give you that.”

There was some comfortable silence, all the moreso as the orchestra set about tuning and warming up in the pit below. Genesis’ voice was soft when he spoke again. “And what would you do if I _did_ have inclination to guard your body?”

Rufus was far from young enough not to catch the different wording and what it implied, glancing at the SOLDIER and arching a brow at the small smile on his lips. “Why Commander Rhapsodos, are you _propositioning_ me?”

“Maybe.” Genesis turned his head a little, blue eyes gleaming. “I’ve heard you called a pretty boy yourself; not my term, but I see their point.”

Rufus chuckled softly. “And what would you call me?”

“’Brat prince’ is my favorite moniker at the moment.”

“ _Brat_ prince, is it?” Rufus smirked. “A little rude, but I suppose you have a point. No room to talk, however.”

“Did I imply that? I don’t think I did.” Genesis took a drink of his cider, smiling faintly. “Besides, you wouldn’t have kept my attention if you didn’t have some bite with all that charm.”

“Oh you like that, do you?” Rufus took pleasure in the _look_ the innocently-asked question got him, inclining his head and waiting to see how Genesis would react.

“I’m not much for biting on my own, but I can be _indulgent_.” He all but purred the word, and it made Rufus’ pulse jump. Judging from his sly little smile, the SOLDIER was aware. “You’d like to leave your mark on me, I take it?”

Rufus’ eyes widened just a bit and he took a sip of his drink to give him a moment so he could speak calmly _._ “I think I would, yes.”

“I heal quickly,” Genesis informed him. “You’d have to do it hard and often.”

Rufus arched a brow, smirking. “I have no objections to doing it hard and often.”

Genesis stretched in his seat, all elegant lines and sophistication despite the insinuations he was making. “I like this plan.”

“And me, apparently.”

“Oh yes, I very much like you,” Genesis said. “Handsome, elegant, intelligent, sassy-”

“ _Sassy?_ ”

“Very sassy.” The redhead nodded. “I know these things.”

“ _Sassy_.” Rufus rolled his eyes. “Surely a poet like you can come up with something more fitting than that.”

“Get one of your Turks to dig up some video of the way you flick at your hair. If you still insist you’re not sassy, I’d at least be interested in hearing your ‘more fitting’ words.” Genesis mirrored the gesture, chuckling at the exasperated look he got. “You’ll have to do better than that to change my mind, Rufus. You’re not even _trying._ ”

“I’m still debating if it’s worth the effort to try.” Rufus watched him a moment, sipping his drink. “You’re a great deal of trouble. I could see you being a PR nightmare, if the press caught wind of any relationship.”

“Possibly. They’re still not sure if they love me or hate me, as a whole,” Genesis said, as if it were nothing but an amusing side note. Maybe for him it was. “Would you hide me away like a dirty little secret, Rufus?”

“Would you _let_ me?” It was an honest question; Genesis Rhapsodos was a very colorful personality, and well known for his love of the spotlight.

The SOLDIER chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I would not. I could be discreet, mind, but I wouldn’t _hide._ Is that going to be a problem?”

“Well, my father might have a heart attack, and the Turks would have a very dignified fit, I’m sure. And Lazard would probably quit speaking to me at all.” Rufus offered the older man a sly smile. “It sounds _brilliant._ ”


	4. Genesis Rhapsodos/Angeal Hewley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angeal had a way of looking through every wall Genesis put up. Which was good, because the swordmage had a terrible habit of overworking himself even before he had the responsibilities of a commander.

Three days of close to constant battle, ended by two massive summons and followed by something like four or maybe six hours doing what he could in the temporary ward they’d set up around the medic’s tent because there were _so many._ And yes, Genesis was one of the hardest commanders, he pushed his men to their limit, but _damn it_ he would not stand by and lose them. More than once, he made the difference between their life and death, and for all they got irritated with him, for as bad a reputation he had for his temper and how hard he trained and pushed them… the ones who served under him knew. And that was enough.

One of the official medics did eventually determine he’d done enough, sometime around his third ether (seventh, if you counted the four he’d taken during the battles) because they were a fantastic stopgap but if he didn’t get actual rest there was a very real chance of burnout. Genesis had done some damage before, burning the channels his mana used, and the last thing he wanted was to be sent back to Midgar and _Hollander,_ benched while he recovered because using magic was too ingrained to assume he could resist in the thick of battle.

Genesis was fairly sure he did actually manage to walk a straight path back to his tent, but he rather promptly face-planted onto his cot as soon as he was in, painfully aware of every twinge and ache from hits the enemy had scored and admittedly the heavy toll of exhaustion. Despite his rather sorry condition, however, he was still in a state of hyper awareness and the only reason he didn’t get back up when he heard the quiet rustle of someone coming through the tent flap was because they brought a familiar and much beloved scent, an earthy scent with a hint of sword polish and something vaguely pine-scented even though there weren’t any to be found for thousands of miles.

The cot dipped a little under Angeal’s weight, and a large hand smoothed down his back, rubbing the small of it where tension gathered whenever he had to run a perimeter regardless of how smooth a stride his warbird had, then back up to knead his shoulders. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”

“Hnn? Were you looking for me?” Genesis’ words were muffled, but thankfully didn’t slur. From the momentary pause, though, he had a feeling Angeal _knew._ But then, no one had ever known him better, so perhaps it was a given.

There was a quiet rustling from a pack Angeal must have brought with him, and the broad strokes turned to a nudge at his shoulder. “Hey, sit up and drink some of this. It’ll help.”

Genesis turned his head a little, squinting blearily at the bottle in his hand. He knew the shape and color far too well. “ _Ugh,_ really, Angeal? I’ve had… half a dozen of those. I’m sleeping it off. No more.”

“Trust me on this one,” Angeal insisted, tapping the cork with his thumb. “It’s not just magic exhaustion, I _know_ you. You’ve got the shakes and you’re getting a ring.”

“Seriously?” Genesis heaved himself upright with a groan, and let himself slump against his lover for a long moment. “You hadn’t even seen my eyes.”

“I saw you a couple hours ago when we were getting people off the field, and you were getting a hint of green from the mako spike; I’m going to bet it’s surged up to a full ring now.” A strong hand that could have easily crushed him gently cupped his face instead, Angeal urging him to look up so he could see for certain. His expression softened from whatever he read in his eyes, the pad of his thumb smoothing over lines of stress and exhaustion. “You’ve been running on adrenaline and it shows. You need more than an ether.”

“ _Ugh._ ” Genesis accepted the bottle, glaring at it. “Did you know when you have enough of these in a row they start tasting like overripe fruit?”

“You’ve said.” Angeal chuckled shook his head. “I’ve doctored it up, just try it.”

“Doctored it?” Genesis arched a brow, intrigued, and popped the cork to sniff at it. He wrinkled his nose a bit, thoughtful. “… what am I smelling? Citrus?”

“Lemon balm and bananas make up about half of that, with the ether as a base, split with a bit of potion.” Angeal gestured for him to drink it. “The lemon balm will help you calm down so you can sleep, the bananas will help you replenish your electrolytes.”

Genesis sipped at the mixture, making a thoughtful sound. “That’s… palatable. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Angeal watched him, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was assessing Genesis’ condition for himself. “When did you eat last?”

“Crackers and jerky on the way back,” he said, resettling a bit with a sigh. “Not sure I want much of anything right now.”

“You could use some rest first, anyway,” Angeal said, moving over and encouraging him to lean. “Think you can unwind, or do you need a little help?”

Genesis smiled faintly, glancing up at his lover through his lashes. “I wouldn’t complain if you were inclined.”

Angeal chuckled indulgently, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Finish your drink, then.”

“Yes, dear.” Genesis smiled at the playful ruffle through his hair, then groaned as Angeal began working his fingertips against his scalp. “If you start that before I’m finished, I take no responsibility for my actions.”

“You get some rest, and I’ll take you up on that,” Angeal promised, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Finish your drink, and let me worry about the rest.”

Any sass he could have offered was half hearted and swallowed up in a yawn, so Genesis leaned against his lover again, and let Angeal have his way. Sometimes, a little fussing was nice.


	5. Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A seemingly endless string of enemies and an entire lifetime later, Usagi and Mamoru finally have the happy ending Serenity and Endymion had dreamed of.

“Okay guys, if you’re gonna waltz across the floor on your wedding, we need some practice! C’mon!” Minako clapped her hands, shooing them onto their temporary dance floor and going to get some music on. She’d been heavily involved in planning the wedding from the beginning – probably good because she kept Usagi focused on things Mamoru just… wasn’t really prepared to have answers for. Of course, Makoto was still preparing the _perfect cake,_ Rei was making sure everything in the shrine was absolutely perfect and Ami was crunching numbers on their supplies so today it was just her for any sort of rehearsal.

It was, admittedly, a bit less refined than the times Haruka and Michiru had been on hand for it. But the couple had been excellent in adjusting them to the dancing at first, lots of tips from Michiru on managing gracefully moving in the sort of dress that Usagi would have – a placeholder, of course, they absolutely would not let him see the real thing until she came walking down the aisle. But by now, it was all falling into place. It had from the beginning, though, the waltz coming back as if they’d been taught before. In a way, they had.

Dancing with Usagi… sometimes it was just simple and sweet and sometimes there were bittersweet memories of a time long gone as he held her close and warm in his arms. From the soft look in her eyes, she shared the thought more often than not. Reincarnation was complicated that way; they didn’t have all their memories back, but enough. They were still Endymion and Serenity, but at the same time they had to cling to being Mamoru and Usagi because this precious chance to be _more_ couldn’t be wasted. They’d been together since she was just a slip of a girl this time, a gap that shouldn’t have seemed so small between them crossed by the hard lives they had to lead while fighting for the peace and prosperity of the planet, for their _future_. Sailor Moon, Tuxedo Mask… he was always chasing her, even when they hadn’t understood the bond that linked them together eternally.

“You looked so far away,” she said, drawing him out of his musings as the dance ended. “Where’d you go?”

“Just thinking about us.” He smiled softly, leaning in and dropping a kiss on her nose. “It’s been a long, long time.”

“A lifetime,” she agreed, and there was a flash of Serenity there, the woman she had been and was growing into. “But we have even more now ahead. Hundreds of years, maybe more. Me and you…”

“Like we should have been.” Mamoru sighed, brushing a curl of blonde hair out of her face with a soft smile. “Sorry. I guess I’m just reminiscing a lot. We didn’t get this, last time. Maybe we couldn’t have, with the Moon Kingdom and the Earth so far from each other…”

“I like to think we would have found a way.” Usagi smiled sweetly, standing up on her toes to get another kiss and grinning at him. “All I can think about is us getting _married!_ ”

“Just a few days,” he agreed, feeling that same joy that was written so beautifully across her face. “Stay with me tonight?”

“I’d _love_ to,” she said, lighting up. “I’ll tell Mama I’m going over to Mina’s. We need to discuss my makeup for a little bit anyway, then I’ll be right over!”

“Sounds good. Do you want anything specific?” He let them sway together to the music, not getting back into a ‘proper’ dance again yet. They didn’t really need to practice, the waltz coming almost naturally now even if it always brought memories along.

“Mmm… pancakes in the morning?” She asked sweetly, batting her lashes and giggling against his lips when she got another kiss. It felt like they just couldn’t get enough of each other anymore, finally reunited after she defeated Galaxia and Chaos. Maybe it was just making up for lost time.

“You’re too cute,” he murmured, cupping her cheek and letting his thumb smooth over her lips. “Pancakes in the morning it is. I think I have strawberries, too.”

“Yay!” She cheered, doing a little happy dance that never failed to make him smile.

“But something more than that for _tonight,_ ” he insisted. “Sushi, maybe?”

“With mochi?” Usagi bargained, ever one for some extra sweets. “Oh! And cute little onigiri? Mako made the _cutest_ little bears, I’ll ask her to show you later!”

“I’ll see if I can make some little rabbits,” Mamoru teased, tugging lightly at one of her pigtails. “Just for you.”

“Aww, that’d be cute!” She beamed up at him. “Thank you!”

“USAGI!”

They startled apart at Mina’s yell, and he laughed quietly. “Okay, I think Mina’s getting a little impatient. Why don’t I let you go talk her into that makeup discussion? I need to do some shopping, anyway.”

“Okay! Thaaank you, Mamo-chan!” She hugged him tightly, darting off back after her friend. "Minaaaa!"

Mamoru watched her go, smiling softly. After millenia, it was finally happening. They’d be married soon, and not too long after that would be Crystal Tokyo… and then their little Chibiusa. It was hard to believe it was all coming together like this. Finally, _finally…_ they’d earned their peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how long this will be, or how often it will be updated, or if I'll only do one part per pairing. But definitely multifandom, and assume the pairings are in different universes unless it's stated otherwise.


End file.
